Mickey Hess
Versions 1-3
(This is a partial transcript from “Hannity & Colmes,” October 14, 2005, that has been edited for clarity.)
ALAN COLMES, CO-HOST: Welcome back to “Hannity & Colmes.” I’m Alan Colmes.
Earlier today, Sean got a chance to sit down with country music legend Hank Williams Jr.
(BEGIN VIDEOTAPE)
HANNITY: The one and only Hank Williams Jr. How are you doing, my friend?
HANK WILLIAMS JR., COUNTRY MUSIC STAR: I’m ready, man.
HANNITY: It’s an honor to see you. Are you ready?
WILLIAMS: Yes.
HANNITY: Ready?
WILLIAMS: Yessiree.
HANNITY: We’re going to survive and we’re going to be united. It’s no longer about the yanks and rebels.
WILLIAMS: Yes. Bring everyone down here.
HANNITY: Hey, I want to pick up this thing here.
WILLIAMS: It’s kind of an American thing.
HANNITY: Really incredible.
WILLIAMS: Twenty. That’s all there is of these things.
HANNITY: Only 20 in the world?
WILLIAMS: Yes.
HANNITY: That’s it?
WILLIAMS: That’s it.
HANNITY: Your generosity is really incredible. Listen, I’m — this is your thing.
WILLIAMS: No, no, no.
HANNITY: Yes.
WILLIAMS: Sean, I brought you something. This is a whole different world now.
HANNITY: And why? Because…
WILLIAMS: Because we’re going to do some good.
HANNITY: You’ve donated $150,000.
WILLIAMS: Well, not enough. Not enough.
HANNITY: This thing, it’s terrific.
WILLIAMS: That’s right. It’s just — it’s basically one of a kind, you know. It’s a beautiful thing. And I thought, you know, boy, what can I do? So I mean, it’s neat. It’s hard to let it go. But actually, it’s real easy. I’m ready, man. It’s my time of year. We’re going to do some good. I’m going to. I’m going to. I’m going to.
(END VIDEOTAPE)
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WHAT HANK JR. WISHES HE COULD HAVE SAID TO HANK SR.
2005, Hannity & Colmes
HANNITY: You’re proud of your dad?
WILLIAMS: Oh, yes. Hank Williams, a lot of us in the blues or rock world I would say that really consider him the real king.
HANNITY: Absolutely. He started it all.
WILLIAMS: And 29 years old, that was a young — that’s young.
1952, Country Song Roundup
Q. What is your favorite food?
A. Fried chicken.
Q. What is your favorite color?
A. Blue.
Q. How did you happen to learn to play the guitar?
A. An old Negro taught me.
Q. What are your hobbies?
A. Writing songs.
Q. What kinds of work have you done besides singing?
A. None
2007, Hannity & Colmes
HANNITY: Today we welcome Mickey Hess. How are you doing, my friend?
MICKEY HESS, FAN OF RAP MUSIC: Doing fine, Sean. Thanks for having me.
HANNITY: You took – this was in your first year of college – you took a course in the history of country music.
HESS: Yes, I did.
HANNITY: You weren’t a real fan of country music, though, from what I understand, right? You thought taking this course would bring you closer to your dad?
HESS: I thought it would give us something to talk about.
HANNITY: And did it work?
HESS: Not exactly, no.
HANNITY: Your interests lied with rap music. Hip hop.
HESS: Yes.
HANNITY: And how did your dad feel about hip hop?
HESS: He felt that it did not sound like music.
HANNITY: Was your father himself a musician?
HESS: Yes, he played bluegrass guitar, a style known as the Merle Travis style, which lies somewhere between the drop-thumb style Maybelle Carter popularized and the Chet Atkins style, which, if I’m correct, was a variation of the Merle Travis style. My dad’s favorite musician was Chet Atkins. There’s also a picture of my dad in front of Merle Travis’ grave.
HANNITY: I like that name, Merle.
HESS: I do too. I didn’t realize that until I said it a few times just then.
HANNITY: Maybelle isn’t bad either.
HESS: All my dad’s brothers and sisters have names that begin with M, like his name, Mike. Most of their kids have M names too. Both my sisters, and all my cousins except for two.
HANNITY: No Merles or Maybelles, though?
HESS: No. Neither one of those. He didn’t name us after his heroes, I guess.
HANNITY: Well, it sounds like you learned a lot about guitar styles in your country music class, at least. Even if it didn’t bring you and your dad together.
HESS: I took a Beginning Guitar class a few years after that. That was maybe a better approach. This was only a year or two before my dad passed away, but there were a few nights we both sat in the kitchen and I’d show him the basics I learned in class and the things I learned by downloading guitar tabs. There were a couple that I could tell really impressed him.
HANNITY: Had he ever tried to teach you guitar?
HESS: Not really. I think when I was young I kind of rejected things he was interested in, and he never made much of an effort to involve me. I asked him once when I was in high school to teach me guitar, but neither one of us had the patience. Also, I think guitar was so easy for him, and he was so good at it, that he had no idea how to explain it to someone.
When I took the guitar class, my youngest sister started playing too, around that same time. So it was like this thing that my dad loved more than almost anything, and finally, after so many years, here’s his 27-year-old son and his 18-year-old daughter taking an interest in it.
HANNITY: That’s nice.
HESS: It was.
1952, Country Song Roundup
Q. Do you come from a musical family?
A. No.
2007, Hannity & Colmes
HESS: It was hard to get him to talk sometimes.
HANNITY: Your dad?
HESS: Yes. We didn’t know what to say to each other. I know now that he was an entirely different person when he wasn’t around his family. A lot of his friends I met at the funeral didn’t even know that he had a son. And the stories they told sounded like a much better version of the Mike Hess I knew. He sounded like he was a lot of fun.
HANNITY: What are your favorite memories of him?
HESS: He drove a lawnmower into a tree once. I was three years old. I was sitting in his lap.
HANNITY: My goodness.
HESS: But that’s the thing. I don’t even remember it. I just remember the way it’s been described to me. I feel like a lot of my stories about him are that way. They’re not even memories.
HANNITY: There must be something. What about –
HESS: He pulled out his own wisdom teeth. He tied a string around a molar until it dried up and fell off. He didn’t like going to the doctor.
HANNITY: No, he didn’t like going to the doctor.
HESS: A customer sneaked his car out of my dad’s body shop without paying, and when he saw the car at the Science Hill Pool Hall a few days later, he got a tire iron out of his trunk and smashed in all the parts he had fixed for him.
HANNITY: But these stories still don’t involve you. Do these feel more like genuine memories?
HESS: I remember him sitting at the table drinking coffee. I remember him being angry a lot. I think I was generally kind of afraid of him.
HANNITY: Did he tell you he loved you?
HESS: He did. And he told me he was proud of me once. I think. When he died I didn’t want to tell anybody, like any of my friends. I just wanted to wait out having to see any of them until I felt better about it, however long that took.
HANNITY: It’s been four years now.
HESS: I know. I told them. I wrote a stock email a few days after the funeral and changed the salutation for each person so it didn’t seem so generic. I don’t remember exactly what I wrote, but I tried to give the impression that it was all I wanted to say about it ever. I had friends who wrote back and offered to listen if I wanted to talk, but I never took them up on it. And I quietly resented the friends who didn’t make such an offer.
HANNITY: He died suddenly, didn’t he?
HESS: Yeah. He was playing guitar at his friend’s party — a pig roast. I never asked anybody what happened to him, but so many people wanted — or needed — to describe it to me. He had put down his guitar and said his arm was hurting. He said he was feeling cold. They all tried to take him to the hospital, but he wouldn’t let them. He didn’t want to go. He made them drive him back home and they sat there with him in the kitchen until he finally convinced them to leave. “You boys go on home. I’ll be fine.”
His friends, afterward they all felt like they could have saved him, but what could they have done? He thought he could tough it out. So they left him there in the kitchen and it was probably two hours later when Mom heard him fall.
HANNITY: Do you feel like he should still be here?
HESS: Yes. I mean, he was only 54. Not that young, I guess, but it’s less than twice my age. I’m more than halfway there, you know? I think that given the chance he would have taken better care of himself. He never got to be a famous guitar-player.
HANNITY: You’re proud of your dad?
HESS: Oh, yes. And, Sean, I know my favorite memory of him. It’s April Fool’s Day, my first year of college.
HANNITY: Absolutely. This is the car prank?
HESS: This is the car prank, yes.
HANNITY: Terrific.
HESS: A running joke – no pun intended – around our house was how my uncle Mark would jog up the hill to our house. Mark lived down the hill from us, and whenever he needed to borrow a tool or help out in my dad’s garage out back of our house, he wouldn’t just walk up the hill, he’d come running.
And you know, I had driven home for the weekend and it was Friday afternoon and no one was in the house except me and my dad. And like usual we didn’t know what to say to each other, so we’re sitting there at the kitchen table and my dad asks, “Have you pulled any April Fool’s Day pranks today?” I shook my head. “You want to play one on Mark?”
So he goes to the phone and dials it, and I hear Mark say hello and my dad screams, “Run up here and help me I got a car on fire!”
HANNITY: And Mark comes running?
HESS: And Mark comes running. We barely had time to walk back to window before we see him run up the hill and shoot past us. After about a minute he comes panting back to the house and Dad says, “April Fools.”
HANNITY: Classic.
HESS: Yeah, it was great. This was a man whose favorite story seemed to be “The Boy Who Cried Wolf” when I was growing up. It was the only children’s story he liked telling. He told it when I faked a fever to get out of school, or when my sisters and I got too loud in the house – “When I hear somebody yelling that loud, I think they need help or they’re hurt or something” – he told it a lot.
HANNITY: And did Mark continue to run up the hill after the April Fools Day prank? Or like that story, did he learn to be suspicious of any emergencies up at your house?
HESS: Well that’s where it ends, really. I, I wasn’t there. The night he died. I wasn’t there, but I know my mom called Mark at like four or five in the morning after she heard my dad fall in the hallway. Right after she called the ambulance. I think she said something like “I can’t get Mike to wake up. Mike passed out and I can’t wake him up.”
HANNITY: And Mark ran up the hill?
HESS: And Mark ran up the hill.
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WHAT HANK JR. WISHES HE COULD HAVE SAID TO HANK SR.
2005, Hannity & Colmes
HANNITY: Hard to be the son of the legend Hank Williams. Easy?
WILLIAMS: Well, you know
HANNITY: I know
WILLIAMS: It’s just kind of
HANNITY: I know. We’ve got family tradition and we know you’re proud.
WILLIAMS: Well, they stick you out there when you’re eight. And 10. Oh, yes.
HANNITY: That’s tough.
WILLIAMS: And 10. And 12. And you say, golly, OK. And you know, this is, well, you know, it’s just kind of something a kid goes out and does.
2007, Hannity and Colmes
HANNITY: More stories for us, Mickey Hess?
HESS: I did listen to country music when I was a kid. Everyone did. It was seeing some kind of resurgence. My friends and I were made to dress up as the Oak Ridge Boys for some kind of elementary school talent show. A girl wore a cowboy hat and lip-synched to Barbara Mandrell and all the boys were in love with her after that. It seems like our talent shows were devoted mostly to lip-synching. None of us played any instruments or knew how to sing for real, but we got insanely good at lip-synching. A lot of class time was devoted to it. Most of fifth grade. But there was a older kid named Shawn who would clog-dance with his mom, wearing matching fringed suits, and he generally won the talent shows. A few years later, we were all listening to 2 Live Crew.
HANNITY: Did you listen to Hank Williams Jr?
HESS: That song “A Country Boy Can Survive”? I used to love that. Thinking about it now, though, the whole song seems to contradict itself. It’s about Hank and all his friends, like most of his songs are. His rowdy friends are coming over. His rowdy friends are settling down. This one, though, seems to go back into the past further than the others. It’s about how Hank and his friends pride themselves on living in the country and all the survival skills that growing up there gave them. Like Hank Sr. said, “You have to smell a lot of mule manure before you can sing the way I do.” That may not be an exact quote. But anyway, Hank Jr. brags about how Southern boys can survive because they’re polite and religious (“We say grace, and we say ma’am”) and they all know to grow their own tomatoes and things like that. But then his friend goes to New York City and gets mugged and stabbed – he ventures out of the country just once and gets killed in the city, so it doesn’t sound at all like a country boy can survive. It just sounds like the country’s safer.
HANNITY: Those homegrown tomatoes didn’t do much for him on the mean streets of New York.
HESS: No, they didn’t, Sean. I do love Hank Jr’s revenge fantasy, though – “I’d like to spit Beechnut in that dude’s eye.” That’ll show him.
HANNITY: Beechnut?
HESS: Beechnut chewing tobacco. What better way to bring the South up North? Down South all the barns have Beechnut ads painted on their roofs. Most of our houses too.
HANNITY: But that isn’t how the song goes, you know. The friend who was killed was actually Hank’s city friend, a friend who had lived in New York his whole life.
HESS: Oh.
HANNITY: Yes
HESS: Still
HANNITY: But we should move on to your hip hop studies. I understand you’ve published a book.
HESS: My dad had a beard and a similar body type to Hank Williams, Jr, and he used to play this up. He wore dark sunglasses and a big white cowboy hat with feathers attached to the sides. He used to ask us if we were ready for some football.
HANNITY: Fantastic.
HESS: My dad had two friends, Richard and Roger. He also had a friend named Worm, but I think he wasn’t as close with him.
HANNITY: I’m getting the sign from my producer … we have
HESS: From the time I was five years old, my dad’s friend Richard used to greet me by asking, “How are the ladies treating you?” He was always wrecking his car and offering to help my dad fix it. For all his outlandishness, though, he seemed to me like the saddest man in the world. The three of us would be in the garage, Richard and my dad banging out dents and me sweeping the floor, when suddenly Richard would tell us he needed to step out back and get ahold of himself.
HANNITY: Mickey Hess, hip hop enthusiast. Thank you for being here with us.
HESS: I knew this phrase from television. Get ahold of yourself. Men in black-and-white movies sometimes said this right before they slapped a woman. I knew it had something to do with uncontrollable crying, so that’s what I pictured poor Richard doing behind the garage every time he came to visit my dad.
HANNITY: It’s been a real pleasure having you here.
HESS: I was a sensitive kid, so finally I had to say something. “What’s wrong with Richard?” I asked my dad.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“What makes him go back there and cry so much?”
“What?”
“He says he has to get ahold of himself.”
“He doesn’t go back there to cry,” my dad said. “He goes back there to pee.”
HANNITY: Terrific. We’d love to have you back on the show sometime.
HESS: My dad had another friend, Danny, who showed up a day late for his funeral. It’s true. A chandelier fell on him in Las Vegas and he got all kinds of money for it but it fucked up his brain and he can’t tell time anymore.
HANNITY: I’m Sean Hannity. Join us tomorrow on Hannity & Colmes, when our guests will be Barack Obama and/or the great Charlie Daniels.
HESS: So there he is in his suit a day late and we’re pushing aside flower arrangements and stuff so he can sit down on the couch. And we’re just kind of sitting there. It’s me, and my mom and sisters, and we’re obviously exhausted. And then there’s Danny, telling us about a chandelier falling on him and what he ate for breakfast last Saturday, telling a story about how when he and my dad were teenagers they once tied two stray cats together and threw them over a clothesline.
Hannity & Colmes theme music playing
Fadeout
Silence.
Mickey Hess is an Associate Professor of English at Rider University, and the author of
Big Wheel at the Cracker Factory (Garrett County Press, 2008), which was
featured as “Critic’s Choice” in The Chicago Reader, described as
“thoroughly humorous” by The Cleveland Plain-Dealer, and mentioned online at
The New Yorker, Poets & Writers, and USA Today. He has a regular column — “I Will
Blurb Any Book Within 24 Hours” — at TheRumpus.net, and his stories and essays have
been published in Created in Darkness by Troubled Americans: Best of McSweeney’s
Humor Category (Knopf, 2005), and such journals as McSweeney’s, Ninth Letter,
Punk Planet, Fourteen Hills, Quick Fiction, Fringe, and The Rome Review. Mickey won third
place of 1400 entries in the McSweeney’s 20-Minute Stories Contest. Further, he
is the author of Is Hip Hop Dead? The Past, Present, and Future of America’s Most
Wanted Music (Praeger, 2007), and the editor of Greenwood Press’s hip-hop reference
series, for which he has published two edited collections: Icons of Hip Hop
(2007), and American Hip Hop: A Regional Guide (2009).
